


It's About To Get Rough For You

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aromantic, Consensual Dubious Consent, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy meets a couple of guys at the bar. But... What are they doing in her house?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's About To Get Rough For You

**Author's Note:**

> Consensual dub-con! Darcy's cool with it, but if you're not, give this a miss!

Darcy flashed her ID to the guy at the door, and he admitted her inside. The bar was dark and smoky, the floor slightly sticky. Nope, this was exactly what she was looking for. It had been a day. Fury seemed to think she had her very own superhuman powers and had had her running all over the fucking place with cryptic demands that he wouldn't explain. She needed a night off. She'd asked Pauline, the lady with the office next to hers, where a good place to go and just fucking forget it all for a while, and Pauline had come through.

There was a press of people but it wasn't _crowded_. She was pretty sure she'd seen some of the faces of the patrons around the Triskelion, but it looked like everyone was just there to relax and have a good time.

Darcy made her way to the bar, leaning over the counter until the bartender came over. In just a few seconds she was the proud holder of an opened bottle of beer, and she made sure to leave a tip as she slid her money across the bar.

Turning, she looked around. A large open space for dancing, there were a fair few people moving to the ear-filling music from the speakers. Tables and chairs, and stairs that led up to a second level where she could see people standing and moving about with pool cues.

The guy who came to stand beside at the bar smiled at her briefly before ordering his own drink. Big guy, tall, slicked-back hair. His arm was a few inches away from her face, and she fully took the opportunity to check him out. He was pretty stacked. There were definitely worse things to be looking at.

He picked up his own bottle, and when he turned back around he totally caught her ogling him. Shrugging, Darcy raised her bottle to him. His eyes flicked over her and a grin spread across his face. He leaned forward, probably so that he could say something to where she'd actually be able to hear it over the pulsing music. Instead what happened was that someone who'd obviously already had quite a bit to drink lurched against the bar from his other side, jostling him so that he stumbled forward.

Into Darcy. Luckily her drink spilled  _out_ instead of  _in_ , falling to splash against the floor. A little bit got on the leg of her jeans, but that was much better than her shirt being absolutely drenched. Except now she'd need another beer.

“Sorry, man,” the guy who'd bumped into the guy beside her yelled before stumbling off away from the bar.

“Are you okay?” the large man who'd just hit her shoulder asked.

She nodded, turning to set her mostly-empty bottle on the bar. “Yeah, I'm fine. Need a new drink, but I'm fine.” She hadn't even been able to have a sip of it yet. That was disappointing.

The guy beside her turned to scan the bar, a distinctly unhappy look on his face. He didn't seem to find what he was looking for, though, and he turned back to Darcy, bending again so that she'd have an easier time hearing her. “Let me get you a drink.”

“You don't have to,” she called back, tilting her face up towards him. Dude was probably about a foot taller than her.

“It'll make me feel better about making you spill yours. You'd be doing me a favor.”

It hadn't  _really_ been his fault, but if the hot guy at the bar wanted to buy her a drink, she wasn't going to argue. She nodded, and he motioned the bartender back over.

She took a sip of her second beer right away, enjoying the cold, fizzy bite as it hit the back of her throat. “Thanks. I'm Darcy.”

“Jack.” His eyes moved over her again. “You here alone?”

She nodded. “Long day at work, I figured I'd just blow off some steam.”

“Oh yeah?” His eyes lingered on hers as he took a drink from his own bottle. “Where do you work?”

“For the government over in DC.” That was her standard line. It wasn't even really a lie. She did work for the government, and her place of work was located in Washington, DC. “You?”

He nodded. “Same.” So either he worked for SHIELD too, or some other secretive branch of the government. CIA, maybe? He really didn't look like the kind of guy who spent a lot of time sitting in his office, there was a certain restless energy to him.

“You don't really look like an office monkey.” She let her hand rest against his upper arm for a second. Well, that was nice. Obviously he was flexing a little. Obviously. But Jack had nice arms.

A grin broke over his face again. “I'm not.” No more information than that, definitely someone else in the hush-hush business. Whatever. That was totally fine, Darcy wasn't exactly at the bar to learn some random guy's full back story.

Another man walked up, his gaze locked on Jack like he was looking for the taller man. “I thought you were getting this round. I've been up there waiting.”

Jack just shrugged, completely unapologetic. “This is Darcy. Darcy, this is Brock.”

The new guy, Brock, turned his attention to Darcy and his eyes moved over her, a smirk turning up his mouth. “Can't blame ya for getting distracted, I guess.” He leaned down close to her. “Hi.”

She smiled at him and waved her free hand as he straightened up. “Hi.”

He was shorter than Jack, leaner, but his voice was  _amazing_ . Low and raspy, that was the kind of voice she could easily imagine coming from just over her shoulder as his hands slid along bare skin...

Well, okay, she probably needed to stop that. Fantasizing about random bar dude was probably something best left for when she wasn't standing right in front of him.

He got himself a drink, and the three of them sort of gravitated over to a table where they spent the next little while talking and flirting. Darcy unabashedly flirted with both of them. They didn't seem to mind, gave as good as they got.

At last she tipped the last of her second beer into her mouth and set the bottle down on the table. “I guess I should head home. I'm probably gonna have to go into work tomorrow.” She was  _supposed_ to have the day off, but Fury had had that overtime look in his eye when she'd left work. “It was nice meeting you guys. Thanks for taking my mind off of work for a bit.”

“Yeah.” Brock nodded. “We'll probably see you around.” They hadn't exchanged numbers or anything, which was probably for the best. Especially if they worked in the more physical parts of the secret government agencies.

Darcy left the bar, letting herself out into the chill night air. She wrapped her sweater a little more tightly around herself. At least she didn't have to wait long for a cab, that was good.

The streets were quiet as she zipped home. It was too early for the mass-bar-exodus, late enough that all of the work and dinner traffic had cleared out. She leaned her elbow against the armrest on the door and looked up at the stars. She was significantly more relaxed than she had been when she left work. That was pretty awesome.

When the cab pulled up the the curb outside her house, she paid the driver and got out. Her street was quiet, still. Some houses had lights on, glowing around curtains and blinds, but no one else was out. Except the neighbor's cat. She stooped down to give it a scratch behind the ears before unlocking the door and heading into her house.

The real estate agent she'd purchased through had called it a “starter home.” Apparently it was perfect for couples who were just starting their lives together or whatever. The realtor had seemed a little shocked when a single woman had the cash handy to buy a house, but it was her house. The gray living room carpet, slightly worn in spots. The fireplace that she lit actual fires in in the winter. The couch with the black coat slung across the back of it.

Her eyes narrowed. That wasn't her coat on the couch. She didn't even own a black coat like that. Her hand dropped to the table that was just inside her door, pulling open the drawer and pulling out the small gun that lived there. Holding it up in one hand, she moved through the house.

There was a noise in the kitchen, a scraping noise. Weapon steady in front of her, she moved through to the kitchen. The light was on. Had she left the light on? It didn't really matter.

A man was sitting at her kitchen table. Brock. The guy from the bar. She leveled her gun at his chest, held securely in a two-handed grip. “What are you doing in my house?”

“Woah, woah.” His hands came up beside his head, fingers spread wide to show they were empty. “That's not necessary. I ain't here to hurt you.”

She didn't budge. “What are you doing in my house?”

He didn't answer. Instead, the gun was plucked neatly from her hand. Someone grabbed her wrists, capturing them together while a heavy arm settled around her waist. Jack. That had to be Jack taking advantage of his longer reach and pinning her back against his body. “Just came back from a mission.” She felt his chest move as he spoke. “It was lonely out there.”

“So go back to the bar and pick up someone who wants to go home with you.” Darcy tugged on her hands but it was no good. Jack's pretty muscles were definitely not just for show.

“Oh, I think we did.” The chair scraped across the linoleum on her kitchen floor again, that had been the noise she heard. Brock got to his feet, walking around the table to stop just in front of her. He took her chin between his finger and thumb and tilted her face up to look at him. She glared at him silently. “I think you were hoping one of us would take you into the bathroom and bend you over the sink.”

“Or both,” came the low voice from behind her.

“Mm, there's a thought.” Brock leaned his head down towards her. It wasn't a kiss, not really. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and pulled back a little, gently tugging on it before drawing it into his mouth. A jolt of heat twisted through her, but she glared up at him as he released her and straightened away.

“Where's your bedroom?” Jack asked.

Her eyes narrowed and she clamped her lips shut between her teeth. Maybe that was a little overkill, but she wanted to make sure they got the message. Brock's thumb stroked over the front of her chin. “Doesn't matter if you answer the question or not, we'll fuck you here. A nice, soft bed might be a little easier on your knees, though.”

He was absolutely serious. If she didn't tell him where her bedroom was, whatever they were going to do to her was going to take place on the cold, hard linoleum. Darcy motioned her head back behind her, towards the living room, jerking free from Brock's hand. “First door on the right.”

“Good choice.” He smirked at her before moving past them, headed back down the short hall towards the living room.

Jack tightened his arm around her waist, effortlessly lifting her up against his body. Her wrists were still snug in his other hand, held easily in front of her. He carried her after the other man, following into her rather untidy room. Neither commented on the sprawl of clothes left across the floor. 

Her feet touched the ground and she tried to pull away again, but she couldn't get anywhere. They were beside the end of the bed, so close that the edge of the mattress brushed against Darcy's leg. She could feel the breadth of Jack's torso behind her shoulders, hard as a fucking wall. “What do you do, put concrete slabs down your shirt in the morning?” She heard the amused huff from behind her.

Brock pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket. She stared at him, eyes widening in surprise. “You keep handcuffs in your pocket?” she demanded. “Who even does that?”

“Never know when you might wanna get someone all tied up. Now.” He waved them back and forth mockingly in front of her face. “I don't wanna use these, but I will. So either you behave, or...” The  _or_ was pretty self-explanatory when he rested the shiny metal cuffs on the comforter at the end of her bed.

Jack released her wrists, and she rubbed each of them in turn. She had absolutely no doubt that he meant every word he said, just like what he'd said about the hallway. As she stood there glaring up at the man in front of her, she weighed her options. There was no way she could get past both of them. Even without Jack's solid arm around her waist, there was no way she'd even make it to the door before one of them grabbed her. So... Now what?

With his hand free, Jack was able to brush aside her long hair. She felt his lips brush against the upper curve of her ear before he nipped at it. She was unable to completely smother her surprised squeak. “We wanna make you feel good, Darcy,” he breathed in her ear. “But we can only do that if you let us. You gonna let us?” His mouth closed over her earlobe, and she made another soft sound.

She could wait. She could wait until they let their guard down. Darcy nodded, sucking in a gasp as Jack's teeth tightened on her earlobe, each movement of her head making him tug gently on it.

Brock stepped into her, his hand sliding over her hip. He leaned down, nipping at her lower lip before drawing it into his mouth again. She groaned, her hands coming up to close in the front of his black long-sleeved shirt.

The arm at her waist shifted, sliding up until her breast was cupped in one large hand. His fingers found her nipple even through her clothing, tracing a circle around it. The fabric of her bra shifted against her sensitive flesh as it pebbled until the friction was driving her insane. She arched and twisted, trying to get away, trying to get closer.

“More?” Jack asked in her ear.

“No,” she moaned into Brock's mouth, but she was nodding again.

“Let's get this off.” Jack's fingers dropped down to push up under the hem of her shirt. Brock pulled away, and Jack lifted the shirt up and over her head, letting it drop beside them on the floor. 

The dark eyes of the man in front of her fastened on her breasts, she could see the gleam of lust there. “This too.” He reached up behind her, effortlessly flicking her bra open. They pulled it down her arms, and suddenly she was half-naked in front of them.

Brock bent down, leaving a line of hot kisses down the top of her breast to the nipple Jack had just been chafing at. His lips traced around her aereola, his mouth working against her until she wanted to scream. It was so close, so close.

“Please,” slipped out, and in response his mouth closed over the pert nipple, drawing it deep inside. She arched into him, her eyes tightly shut. The fingers of one hand threaded into his thick hair, holding him there as he sent shocks of pleasure through her.

A large hand was slipping around her ribs. Jack was cupping her other breast, finding the peak with his finger and thumb. He rolled and plucked, slowly increasing in pressure until the pinch of his fingers was making her writhe and whimper. It hurt, but the pain became a white-hot sensation that sent darts of pleasure directly down between her legs.

Brock eased away. “Is he hurting you?” He leaned forward to flick his tongue over the abused flesh and Darcy let out a yell. “Is that better?”

She couldn't find her words for a response. Brock smirked at her for a second before she felt him working the fly on her jeans. They were opened, pushed down her legs. “Maybe I can distract you, then.”

Jack shifted his attention to her other nipple. He started out gently, but somehow it wasn't enough. More, she needed more, and she arched into him. “You like it,” he praised, his fingers closing tighter and tighter until she let out another whimper.

Brock slipped his hand down into her panties, and she automatically shifted her feet apart as his fingers moved down to her center. “You're so fucking wet.” His fingers were sliding against her heated flesh. “She definitely likes it.” He found her clit, the pad of one finger rubbing a firm circle over it. The heat coiling between her legs grew with each pass.

Jack moved behind her, she heard his knees hit the carpet as he knelt down. He got her shoes off; she gripped at Brock's shirt for balance as he worked her pants off. The panties stayed on for some reason.

That was fine. But without the bite of his fingers, she might be able to get away. She grabbed Brock's wrist in both hands, and he arched an eyebrow in surprise as he let her tug it out of her underwear. She brought it to her mouth, letting her tongue flick out against his finger.

And then she dropped him, twisting and running for the door. She didn't get more than two steps before a hand closed over her ankle, stopping her in her tracks and pulling her down until she hit the floor.

“And here I thought we were having a good time. You're certainly enjoying yourself. But...” She heard the metal clink of the cuffs and she twisted, kicking with her free leg, trying to get away. She connected with something but Jack didn't let her go.

Her wrists were grabbed, pulled behind her back. She felt the cool metal closing around first one, and then the other. She was trapped. Hands on her hips pulled her up to her feet and back against Brock's body, and she glared down at where Jack was still crouched on her bedroom floor. “Where do you wanna be?” came the raspy voice from behind her, sending a shiver licking up her spine. Her body was practically screaming with need. She'd been prepared to ignore it, but now that she was trapped it seemed to press in on her.

Jack rose to his feet, his eyes hard on Darcy's as he slowly pulled off his own clothing. He was stacked. His muscles had muscles. No wonder he felt like a fucking concrete wall. “Underneath. You can do all the work.”

She could practically  _hear_ the smirk coming from behind her. “Okay.”

Jack moved over to the edge of the bed, sitting down and then lying back on it. His feet were still flat on the floor, his ass near the edge of the bed. She couldn't look away from where his erection rose thickly out of the dark curls between her legs.

“Let's go,” Brock said. He gripped her upper arm, propelling her over to where the other man was reclined against the bed. He lifted her easily until she was straddling him, her knees on either side of his hips.

Fingers digging into her own hips lifted her up, then eased her down until she felt the head of Jack's cock against the slick opening to her pussy. He thrust up into her with one sudden motion, making her cry out. “Fuck!”

“That's what we're doing.” Jack's hands took over the grip on her hips, and he brought her up and down until she picked up the rhythm, rocking her hips against him. “Since you didn't wanna wait.”

She felt a finger, cool and slick, pressing against the rosebud of her ass. “Oh, fuck,” she whimpered as Brock circled the puckered opening.

“This is what happens when you don't behave,” he murmured, and one fingertip slid just inside. He grabbed her arm, easing her down until she was lying across Jack's chest. “It'll be better for you if you relax.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she groaned as his finger slid in up to the knuckle. He eased it in and out a couple of times. It didn't hurt, in fact combined with Jack's motions deep inside her cunt, it could actually feel good.

A second finger slid in alongside the first with a bit of a sting, but that soon eased. He started working his fingers in and out, scissoring them, stretching her open with a deep, delicious ache that left her wanting more.

Jack let her slow to a stop, and Brock's fingers eased out. In just a second, though, she could feel something thicker, firmer pressing against her ass. She bit her lower lip as he pushed into her, slowly at first and then sliding home with a quick snap of his hips that had her yelling again. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered.

Darcy couldn't keep still, shifting between them. She felt so full, riding the edge of pain that only drove the tingling heat in her body higher. They started to move, fucking into her until mewling noises were escaping her mouth.

Brock grabbed forearms, pulling her up and back until she was leaning between them, her breasts bouncing each time one of them fucked up into her. Jack reached up and caught one nipple between his finger and thumb, pulling and twisting until her mewls turned into full-throated cries.

“Do you wanna come?” Brock growled from behind her.

Her pleasure was ratcheting higher and higher, no end in sight. “Uh huh.” She nodded desperately, eyes squeezed shut.

“You wanna come?” he demanded again.

“Yes!” she yelled. “Oh god, please!”

A touch against her clit, pinching in time with each sharp thrust into her ass. Her orgasm pushed through her in a sudden wave, making her yell again as her body clenched around them.

They fucked her steadily through it. Jack's touch shifted back and forth between her nipples. Her back was arched like a bow, pushing her breasts towards him. The touch didn't leave her clit and she squirmed to get away as it became too much. There was nowhere to go. Again and again they surged into her, and the sensation slipped from too much into not enough, a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

Brock was getting close, she felt his rhythm get deep and irregular. He stiffened behind her, the touch against her clit falling still, and she groaned in frustration.

A different touch took his place, Jack's thick thumb rolling back and forth against the needy bead of flesh. Just a bit more, just a bit longer... She let out another yell as she came, and this time he wasn't far behind her, his cock pulsing deep inside her cunt.

Darcy was eased down against Jack's chest again, and in just a second she heard the click and the slight grinding noise that meant her wrists were released. She let her hands flop down against the bed, lacking sufficient energy or motivation to do much else.

She felt the bed dip, and then she was sort of pulled up to the head where Brock pulled her against him, tucking her head against his shoulder.

Jack scooted back until he was on her other side, the press of his thigh warm against her hip. They laid like that for a bit, catching their breath and trying to get some energy back.

“Did you really pull a gun on me?” Brock asked.

Darcy lifted her head to see him looking down at her, one eyebrow raised. “Well, I kinda had to. Someone...” She gave a pointed look to Jack. “Left his coat on the back of the couch. And, like, I knew it was you guys, but what if it wasn't?”

“Yeah, my bad.” Jack sounded like he actually felt bad about it, too.

Darcy leaned over to give him a kiss. “It all worked out okay. I had a lot of fun.” She pulled her hands up in front of her, looking at the red lines still visible on her wrists. “Probably have some new bruises.”

“You know you love it.” Brock was smirking down at her. And yeah, she kinda did.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a kidnapping fic and it sort of turned into this. Not quite kidnapping.


End file.
